


Caged

by fucker



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Heavy Petting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 10:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20356906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fucker/pseuds/fucker
Summary: A simple mistake could easily have cost Chilton his life.





	Caged

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VoidFeathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidFeathers/gifts).

> Commission for [VoidFeathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidFeathers) ^^
> 
> **Not my OC; character belongs to VoidFeathers**

"The hospital is prepared to offer you some... _ incentives _ in exchange for your cooperation."

"Incentives?" 

Vincent was on his feet, pressed up against the interrogation cage as usual, tracking the doctor's movements with not just his eyes but his entire body. _ Not all that unlike a cobra waiting to strike_. Frederick cleared his throat and began to pace, both trying to hide his unease and expend some of the nervous energy that had his palms sweating and the hairs on his arms beginning to stand on end.

"A larger cell on the second floor, extra phone time, and some limited personal items. Clothing, books— subject to approval, of course— and certain foods. The food would be kept in the staff's care, naturally, but available to you wh—"

Frederick realized that he had gotten too close a nanosecond after Vincent realized the exact same thing. He had too many steps to consider in the process of evading his patient, and a wiry forearm had him around the shoulders before he finished calculating exactly how far he could step away, still maintain his balance, and not put any unnecessary strain on his midriff. 

A second arm looped around his waist and dragged him in, and Frederick dropped his cane as his patient pulled him flush against the bars, his back to the cage, arms pinned to his sides, and two strong arms wrapped around his body.

"_Finally_," Vincent groaned, inhaling deeply. 

Frederick's first instinct was to refrain from struggling; to play dead as if lack of movement would somehow cause his patient to lose interest. He was used to being in the position of the predator, and the sudden, unexpected switch to prey had his heart thudding against his ribs, pumping his system full of adrenaline as fast as his body could produce it.

"I've seen the way you look at me, Doctor."

Frederick was more than a bit taken aback— he had assumed that his poker face was impeccable, and had allowed himself more than a few sideways glances at Vincent based on that assumption alone. He swallowed hard, willing his voice to stay steady. "Let me go, Vincent."

"Let you go? But I've only just gotten my hands on you."

The arm around his waist remained firmly in place, but the hand across his ribs began to creep upwards. Frederick was suddenly too conscious of his chest heaving and he tried to slow his frantic breathing before Vincent picked up on just how terrified he was. 

“Have you been enjoying my little shows, Frederick?”

“I do not know what you’re referring to.” 

_ He did, in fact, know exactly what his patient was referring to. Vincent had recently taken to stripping to the waist in his cell, slowly, deliberately working up an erection, and finishing into his fist as he stared down the security camera. He wasn't quiet about it, either. Frederick had just over an hour of footage burned to a disc and hidden in a repurposed Shania Twain CD case for when he needed a little extra something to help him along. _

Vincent's hand met his throat and Frederick gasped. Those warm, rough, calloused fingers against his sensitive skin had his body reacting without his permission before he could stop it, and he felt himself leak a tiny amount of precome as he twitched in his pants. Vincent's thumb stroked the full length of Frederick's neck, painfully slow and frustratingly gentle, before he wrapped a hand around the doctor's throat and gently squeezed.

Frederick shuddered. His scar was beginning to throb with a new mix of pleasure and apprehension that he'd never experienced before. Every muscle in his body was tight with fear, and the strain was quickly becoming tangible as the damaged tissue fluttered under the stress; fast, shallow twitches, nearly in time with his racing heartbeat but off by just enough to be a bit dizzying. Two fingers skimmed that unbearably sensitive spot just behind his jaw, and Frederick failed to swallow a moan.

"_Fuck_."

"You're so sensitive, Doctor." Vincent sounded pleased, and Frederick flushed. 

The very tail end of his scar was on fire with the deep, easy heat that was spreading through his abdomen as his balls slowly drew up and tightened in anticipation. Vincent's hand just beneath his jaw prevented him from looking down, but he didn’t need to look to know exactly what he'd see. The only upside was that Vincent wouldn't be able to see anything either, and the longer it stayed that way, the longer his patient would have to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

_ He could still salvage the situation. His cane was less than two feet away; he could dive for it, use it to hide his erection. Vincent had a solid grip on him at the moment, but he couldn't hold him forever— the second he slipped up, Frederick would be out of there. His phone was... shit, it was on his desk right where he'd left it, but there'd certainly be an orderly somewhere around to take care of— _

Vincent's tongue brushed the shell of his ear, and Frederick's train of thought hit a brick wall, crumpled, and exploded into sparks across his vision. He squeaked and struggled in his patients grip, desperately trying to free an arm to give some much-needed attention to his throbbing cock. "_Stop_, I can't—"

“Just because I’m a psychopath doesn’t mean I can’t consent,” Vincent murmured. “What about you, Frederick?”

“_No_.”

“No, I can’t, or no, you won’t?”

“No, I won’t.” The grip on his throat instantly loosened, and Frederick whimpered before he could stop himself. Warmth was calming and pressure was security, and he'd felt neither from another human in too long. The sudden loss of both was unbearable. “Wait. _ Wait_.”

“Mmm?”

"What— what are you going to do to me?"

"I haven't decided yet." Vincent's hand tightened around his neck again, and Frederick barely held back a sigh of relief. "What do you_ want _ me to do to you?"

"I want you to let me go." 

"No you don't."

_ No, he didn't. _Frederick took a deep breath and screwed his eyes shut for a long moment. "I want... I want you to touch me."

Two long fingers slipped between the buttons on his shirt, meeting hot, flushed skin and sending goosebumps down his thighs. He clenched, hard. Vincent's hand was just above his waistband, palm resting on his lower belly and adding to the warm pressure building just above his balls. 

"Like this?" Vincent gently dragged his nails through Frederick’s happy trail; across the smooth, raised scar tissue bisecting his stomach. 

"_Ahh—_" Frederick's body tried to double over in pleasure, but the hand around his neck remained firmly in place. _ Nobody had ever touched him like that. He’d never even gone so far as to imagine _ allowing _ someone to touch him like that. _

"You like that."

It wasn't a question. He wouldn't have been able to process an answer if it was. Vincent's fingers brushed his scar again, and the damaged nerves responded, twitching under the gentle stimulation. He let out a high-pitched moan, fists clenching at his sides as his cock pulsed insistently. 

"Vincent," Frederick managed a deep breath between intense spasms of pleasure. "_Choke me_."

Vincent's hand instantly tightened, fingertips digging into his jugular and palm pressing down on his windpipe, and Frederick came. His adrenaline-fueled orgasm hit him like a freight train, his balls contracting tight over and over, pumping a seemingly endless load into the front of his trousers and down his thigh. It didn't matter that Vincent was choking him hard enough that his vision began to fade to black; he would have neither remembered to breathe nor been able to focus on doing so regardless. 

When he finally gasped for air, there was a brief rush of panic before Vincent's hold eased up. Momentary panic was immediately replaced by a second massive wave of pleasure as his oxygen-starved brain was finally allowed air again, and sparks popped in his vision for the second time that evening. His cock jerked again, oversensitive head rubbing against the coarse material of his fly, and Frederick whined in pained ecstasy as what had to be the last bit of come in him forced its way down his shaft.

Vincent eased the trembling psychiatrist to his knees, stroking his hair while he recovered. A drained, exhausted Frederick sighed contentedly under his touch, breathing evening out as his pulse slowed. 

When Frederick finally turned back around, his mouth fell open. The sight of his patient slowly stroking his own cock would've had him stirring in interest again if he hadn't just experienced the most powerful orgasm of his life. Vincent tipped the head of his cock toward him, and he swallowed hard. 

"C'mere, Doctor."

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to [message](https://fuckerao3.tumblr.com/ask) or [DM](https://www.tumblr.com/message/fuckerao3) me with questions, suggestions, or requests (no promises), or if you'd like to beta!


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